


Sword-swallowing

by SecondStarOnTheLeft



Series: Swordplay [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Oral Sex, POV Male Character, explicit content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 02:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20038732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecondStarOnTheLeft/pseuds/SecondStarOnTheLeft
Summary: During Edmure's visit to King's Landing, Jaime invites him to dinner in his private rooms.Edmure chooses his own dessert.





	Sword-swallowing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Whiskeyjack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whiskeyjack/gifts).

> I hope you enjoy it, Tora! There's a little something else tomorrow, but hopefully this will whet your appetite <3

Jaime invites Edmure to dinner in his private chambers, two nights into the little fish’s stay in the city. No doubt Ser Barristan disapproves of Jaime defiling the sanctity of the Tower by bringing in a man not one of their brothers, but Jaime remembers how thoroughly they all looked away for Prince Lewyn’s sake.

Does that make Edmure Tully his paramour? Gods preserve him if such a thing ever occurs to Cersei.

“Well, ser,” Tully says, hands on his hips and his mouth turned up in pure insolent glee. “I see your subsequent squires have kept you well enough.”

Jaime’s rooms are more sumptuous than those of his fellows of the Kingsguard, but he is a Lannister. He is glad of his thick mattress and fine hangings, glad of his comfortably arranged dining area, and very glad that his window is not overlooked by any other part of the castle.

Edmure sits. He is louche and relaxed in a way that Jaime himself usually tries to appear, and Jaime feels a fool for being cautious. He has never been nervous of anyone or anything in his life, save perhaps for Arthur Dayne, but he feels a green boy in the face of Edmure’s easy confidence.

But then, why shouldn’t Tully be confident here? Was this not his home for as long as he was Jaime’s squire?

“Come, ser,” Edmure says, throwing one long leg over the arm of his chair. Jaime cannot help but track the shift of muscle under Tully’s thin breeches, tracing the line of his thigh up from the knee, all the way to the shadow of his river-blue tunic. “Won’t you sit?”

“And here I thought I was the host,” Jaime says, but he sits all the same - opposite Tully, stretching his legs out under the table toward his  _ guest.  _ Tully grins, nudging his foot between Jaime’s. “Brat.”

“You’re a terrible host, ser,” Edmure says, utterly unashamed as Jaime’s squire and his page - two idiot boys, and not even amusing idiots! - come in with the food. Tully doesn’t move his foot while the boys set out the dishes except to brush his ankle against Jaime’s. Even through their boots, a jolt runs up Jaime’s leg and settles heavy in his gut.

Edmure bites his lip, smiling. Jaime can taste his own spend on Edmure’s tongue when he looks at that smile.

* * *

They eat. They drink a great deal more wine than Jaime is used to, and by the time the boys return to clear the table, Edmure is slumped low in his chair with his foot resting on  _ Jaime’s  _ chair, between his spread thighs. As soon as the door closes behind the boys on their last trip, Jaime drops his hand to catch Tully’s ankle, rubbing at the notch below the bone through the butter-soft leather.

“My lord father thinks squiring for you given me expensive tastes,” Edmure says, his mouth stained Lannister scarlet instead of warm Tully red by the wine. “What say you, ser?”

“I say your time away has stripped you of your manners, boy,” Jaime drawls, pushing away from the table so Edmure’s heel hits the floor with a sharp  _ thud. _ “It’s made you insolent. Made you  _ brazen.” _

“My brazenness did not seem to worry you the other night, ser,” Edmure says, sprawling once more with that damned thigh spread over the arm of the chair. He has a cup in one hand, but the other dangles loose, fingertips tracing the inner seam of his breeches just slightly. 

Jaime wonders if Tully’s hands are always warm. He wonders if they are always eager.

That Tully’s mouth is always smiling he does not doubt. He wonders what that stained mouth might look like stretched around something other than an impish grin.

“It will get you into trouble,” is all Jaime says, settling on the bed to remove his boots. Tully watches carefully, as if fascinated by Jaime’s fingers working through the laces. Jaime finds himself equally fascinated by the way the candlelight reflects the blue of Tully’s collared tunic up against his pale neck, where his skin isn’t shadowed amber-grey with stubble. 

Edmure rises slowly, suddenly showing caution where he has been otherwise brash since the moment of his arrival in the city. It’s a curious look on him, lending something catlike and careful to his usual quick, strong movements. 

“I think, ser,” he says, crossing the room with deliberate, particular sort of steps, “that you ought to leave your laces to me.”

He kneels. Jaime’s thighs seem to spread of their own accord.

“You could always just admit that you’ve missed me, ser,” Edmure says, his voice low and his eyes downcast as he slowly, carefully sets to work on Jaime’s laces. Jaime’s mouth is watering a little, and it isn’t from the wine.

“Why should I lie, Tully?” Jaime asks idly, lifting his hips so Edmure can slide his breeches down his hips, around his arse and down his thighs. “I have had other squires since you, you know. There are any number of bright, eager young men in Westeros.”

“Mayhaps,” Edmure says, light and purposefully easy. “But how many of them want to suck your cock,  _ ser?” _

Well, when he puts it like that. 

Edmure’s hand is firm and warm as he draws Jaime’s cock from his smalls, doing what little coaxing is needed to bring Jaime to his full length.

“Smaller than I imagined,” the brat teases, and then he  _ swallows. _

Jaime has always been very good at sharp comebacks, but right now, he can hardly hold back from coming. 

All he can manage is to sink his left hand into Edmure’s thickly curling hair - left, because if he uses his strong right hand he’s likely to pull Tully’s pretty red curls out - and breathe through it. Cersei doesn’t like doing this, and there’s something particularly exciting about how  _ eager  _ Edmure was for it.

So eager to serve. Now that’s something Jaime hasn’t ever seen, for it is simply not in Cersei's nature.

“You’ll bring all your sworn brothers down on top of us if you don’t quieten a little,” Edmure warns, his mouth tender-pink and shining. He keeps his hand on Jaime’s cock, stroking quick and firm along his length and daring to meet Jaime’s eyes. Tully’s eyes, always bright, are hot on Jaime’s gaze, on his skin, and he can only just meet them.

It is… Strange. To look at another and not see his reflection.

“Hush,” Edmure cautions him, taking Jaime’s right hand and pressing it against his mouth so he might silence himself. “Else I’ll leave you like this.”

The whine that pushes past Jaime’s own hand is hardly what anyone would expect of the mighty Kingslayer, but it makes Tully grin and return that tongue of his to its work, so he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind anything at all, save the press of Tully’s tongue along the underside of his cock, and the tight pressure of Tully’s lips dragging-

“I want to fuck you,” he gasps out. “Fish- Edmure- I  _ want _ -”

“You’re not ready for that,” Edmure says, in the same stern tone Jaime used use when Edmure pleaded to be allowed use live steel in the yard. Oh, well, that’s just as pleasing as the subservience, and isn’t  _ that  _ something to be put aside for later consideration. “You’ve never done this, ser - I’d know. Let me guide, for once.”

Edmure’s done naught but lead since his return to the city, Jaime thinks, following Tully’s lead and spilling obligingly down his throat when he swallows Jaime’s cock down once again.

“Well,” he says, leaning back on his heels and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, giving every appearance of having enjoyed that  _ very _ much. “We have the whole night ahead of us - however will we occupy all that time?”

Jaime kisses him. They have to start somewhere, he supposes.


End file.
